


Eyeliner n [singular]

by WhiteWolfCraft



Series: Etymology n [singular] [2]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Christmas Party, Eyeliner, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23097295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteWolfCraft/pseuds/WhiteWolfCraft
Summary: Eyelinernoun [singular]A cosmetic applied as a line round the eyes to make them appear larger or more noticeable.Knowing Carlos sometimes wears eyeliner is one thing. Seeing him apply it is very different.
Relationships: Lando Norris & Carlos Sainz Jr, Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr
Series: Etymology n [singular] [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660042
Comments: 14
Kudos: 60





	Eyeliner n [singular]

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote [Leggings n [plural]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22897528) and then got thinking about other stereotypical feminine things and bucking trends and I wrote this piece.
> 
> I created a series because I am planning more fics that follow this trend, but all the fics are standalone works. There is no need the read the first part to understand this fic.
> 
> As always this has been beta-ed and cheered on by my dearest [pronoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pronoe), who definitely spotted some embarrassing mistakes. Any remaining mistakes are all mine.

They get ready for the staff Christmas party at Carlos’ place. Lando changes in the guest room, struggling a little with getting the shirt collar right. He fluffs up his hair and checks himself out in the mirror. He looks smart, if he says so himself. The whole jumper over dress shirt is very Carlos, but Lando thinks he can pull it off pretty well. He fiddles with the sleeves, rolling the jumper’s sleeves up once so the white shirtsleeves peek out.

He leaves the guest room, planning to wait downstairs until Carlos is ready, but stops abruptly when he passes the bathroom. The door is open and Carlos is inside, leaning close to the mirror. He is applying eyeliner, looking focused and concentrated.

Knowing Carlos sometimes wears eyeliner is one thing. Seeing him apply it is very different, and Lando is captivated. He’s seen make-up artists apply eyeliner to Carlos during the Richard Mille photoshoot, but they were professionals and did it quickly. This here is Carlos applying it himself, one eye closed, thumb pulling the skin taut, carefully running the kohl pencil over the lid, leaving black behind. Carlos releases the skin, blinking rapidly, and peers critically into the mirror, turning his head slightly one way and then the other way. He dots the corner below and runs his thumb over it, smudging the black a little.

Lando shifts, stepping into the bathroom, and Carlos must have seen the movement for he turns towards Lando. He is already dressed, the same jumper-over-dress-shirt combination that Lando opted for, his jumper just a different shade of dark blue. He looks Lando over, his left eye lined with black, his right still free from makeup.

“You look good,” he says and Lando preens a little, which makes Carlos laugh.

“You’re just wearing the same thing you always wear,” Lando says, stepping closer so he can poke at Carlos’ shoulder. Carlos just shrugs.

“I look good in this, so why change it?”

He turns back to the mirror, leaning in close again, bringing his thumb up. Lando shuffles forward, craning his neck so he can see better and Carlos pauses, meeting Lando’s eyes in their reflection. He arches an eyebrow and Lando swallows, clears his throat.

“Can I watch?” He asks, trying not to blush. Carlos’ eyes go wide for a moment and then he smiles, big and wide.

“Sure. Hop on,” he says, patting the counter and Lando does, gets on the counter, his back to the mirror. Carlos steps closer to Lando so Lando’s leg is pressed against his hip and leans towards the mirror again.

Lando watches intently as Carlos closes his right eye, using the pointer finger of his left hand to pull the skin taut, and slowly brushes the pencil along the lid, starting on the outside and working towards the inside with short strokes. The line is thin and straight, Carlos’ hand steady, only making the smallest of movements with his wrist. He looks so calm and confident applying the eyeliner and Lando is in awe.

Just as with his left eye, Carlos dots the corner below his eye and rubs at it with his thumb, smudging the black a little. He caps the kohl pencil and puts it down on the counter, checking in the mirror to make sure both sides are the same.

“How did you learn to do that?” Lando asks when Carlos leans back.

“My sisters and YouTube,” Carlos says.

Lando hums and picks up the pencil again, uncapping it and inspecting the kohl. Something is fluttering in his stomach, something akin to nerves, and he isn’t sure what is causing it. He runs his finger over the kohl and it leaves a black streak behind. Lando rubs his thumb over the black, smudging it.

A hand covers his and Lando looks up, meeting Carlos’ gaze. It feels even more intimidating with the black framing his dark brown eyes, making them even more striking and intense, and Lando feels the urge to look away, suddenly shy for no good reason.

“Do you want?” Carlos asks, nodding to the eyeliner still in Lando’s hand.

It takes Lando a moment to understand what Carlos means and he can feel his eyes going wide. He never really thought about wearing eyeliner but now Carlos has put the idea in his mind and Lando wants to, he thinks. Wants to know how he would look with his eyes lined dark, or maybe even with something brighter that matches his eye colour.

“I – I want to try?” Lando trails off in a question and Carlos gives him a reassuring smile.

“If you don’t like it, we can always remove it,” he says and Lando nods.

“Okay.”

Carlos opens a drawer and takes out a handful of pencils, mostly darker colours – several shades of dark blue, a dark grey and dark green – but he also has brighter metallic pencils, silver and gold. Lando spots a bright orange pencil as well. Carlos spreads the pencils out on the counter and gestures at Lando to pick one.

Lando grabs a black and a dark blue but hesitates. He puts the two pencils he picked to the side and runs his fingers over the different grey and silver ones. He wants something bright, something that stands out, something that pops, like the colours of his helmet. And silver would look good with his eyes, he thinks.

“This one,” he says, picking the brightest silver eyeliner Carlos has. Carlos takes it from him and looks from the pencil to Lando a few times.

“Yes, this one will suit you well,” he says and puts the other pencils back into the drawer.

“I don’t know how to put it on though,” Lando says, a little dejected. There is no way he can pull off a line as straight as Carlos and he wants it to look good, doesn’t want to look like a fool who doesn’t know what he is doing.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do it for you,” Carlos says and he steps closer, pushing Lando’s legs apart so he can stand in between. He uncaps the pencil and leans in close, studying Lando’s face for a moment.

“Only the lid I think,” he murmurs softly, mostly to himself. “Close your eyes, Lando.”

Lando does, lets his eyes fall close. He can feel Carlos in front of him, coming closer and closer. His heart is beating fast and loud – loud enough that Carlos has to be able to hear it – and his palms feel sweaty.

“Hold still,” Carlos says softly, close enough for his breath to caress Lando’s face.

Lando jerks back when Carlos’ hand touches his eyebrow and he takes a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. Carlos carefully places his hand on Lando’s face again and this time Lando keeps still. With soft fingers, Carlos angles his head, tilting his chin up and turning his head a little sideways. He gently thumbs at Lando’s eyelid, pulling the skin taut. The first brush of the pencil feels strange and weird and Lando grips his thighs, digging his fingers in to keep himself from yanking his head away.

“Relax,” Carlos mutters, his voice low and soothing. He rests his other hand, the one holding the pencil, on Lando’s cheekbone as he keeps brushing the pencil over Lando’s eyelid with small, very slow movements, from the outside to the inside. His hands are warm on Lando’s skin, the pad of his thumb a little rough with calluses, and he can feel the sleeve of Carlos’ jumper brushing against his jaw.

He feels Carlos withdraw after one last stroke of the pencil, his hand leaving Lando’s face as well. Lando blinks his eyes open and he wants to reach up and touch his eyelid but he resists.

“Do you want to see or should I do the right one first?” Carlos asks.

“The right one first,” Lando says and closes his eyes again.

This time he doesn’t flinch as Carlos rests his hand on his forehead, holds perfectly still while Carlos gently brushes the pencil over his lid.

“Okay, done,” Carlos says after a moment and Lando feels him move away.

Lando slowly opens his eyes and twists around as much as he can on the counter, looking into the mirror. Carlos was right, the silver _does_ suit him. It makes his eyes pop brighter and shine, his lashes seem longer and darker. The silver lines are perfectly even and thin, proof of Carlos’ steady hand.

“And?” Carlos asks and Lando meets his gaze through the mirror. Carlos is worrying at his lower lip, the line of his shoulders tense.

“It looks amazing, I love it,” Lando says, his voice a little thick from the lump in his throat.

“Good,” Carlos says, his shoulders relaxing, and he puts the pencil away.

Lando admires his eyes in the mirror for a moment longer and then follows Carlos out of the bathroom.

Carlos films him coming down the stairs, fiddling with his cuffs again, and greets him with a deep “good evening sir”. Lando greets him back with a drawn out “hello”, his voice doing a weird thing at the end. It dispels the lingering intensity between them, the tension dissipating from the air, as they get back to their normal behaviour, joking around together.

They get ready to leave, taking a taxi to the MTC. At first Carlos suggested taking his McLaren, but since there is no way either of them are staying sober tonight and Zak has arranged a fleet of taxis to take the staff home tonight after the party, that made no sense.

“Cabrón, come here,” Carlos says as they stand in the hallway, the lights of the taxi shining through the glass of the front door. “Your collar is – let me fix it,” he continues, stepping close to Lando and reaching out. He straightens the collar, hands brushing over Lando’s collarbone and throat as he smoothes out the fabric, sending shivers down Lando’s spine.

“There you go.”

“Thanks Carlos,” Lando says and follows Carlos to the taxi, sliding into the backseat next to him.

*

The MTC is decorated for the party, a lot of silver everywhere. There is a DJ set up at the front of the room, blasting music through the sound system, and waiters are wandering around with trays of drinks and canapés. Lando grabs two of the long-stemmed glasses and hands one to Carlos. He takes a sip and the champagne fizzes on his tongue.

Charlotte and Helen notice Lando’s eyeliner and he accepts their compliments with a wide smile, but doesn’t tell them that it was Carlos who applied it. That piece of information seems something private and intimate and he isn’t willing to share that with anyone.

His prediction of neither of them staying sober comes true. After a full season of not drinking, it doesn’t take a lot for Lando to feel tipsy, and he’s enjoying the light, floaty feeling. Carlos seems drunk as well, a wide smile on his face and unsteady on his feet.

They mess around with the DJ equipment and take pictures wearing disco balls and Lando is having a great time, something he tells several people very loudly. Will just rolls his eyes and directs him towards Carlos.

“Carlos! I haven’t seen you in ages!” Lando exclaims, staggering a little as he hurries towards Carlos. He slams into him harder than planned and Carlos lets out an oomph, stumbles back a few steps until he manages to steady both himself and Lando.

“You saw him five minutes ago,” someone next to them mutters and Lando squints at them, needing a moment to recognise Henrik with his hair down.

“Five minutes is ages!” Lando explains and Henrik rolls his eyes, muttering something about drivers and low alcohol tolerance as he walks away.

“He’s grumpy,” Lando says, watching Henrik disappear into the crowd of people. Carlos hums and offers Lando a cocktail, something bright orange with a tiny blue umbrella in it.

“Here, you’ll like this,” he says and Lando accepts the glass, their fingers brushing together. He takes a sip and it is punchy and sweet, strong with alcohol and orange juice. Land takes another sip and licks his lips clean.

“It’s good,” he says, looking up to find Carlos staring at him a little, his lips slightly parted. Lando nudges him in the side and Carlos shakes his head, smiled at Lando.

*

It is late, very late, when the party winds down. A fleet of taxis is ready along the curved driveway, patiently waiting for passengers. They’re stumbling along the queue of cars and Carlos pulls Lando into the first empty one they find.

“You’re staying with me,” he says after telling the driver his address. That wasn’t the plan but Lando doesn’t mind, gladly following Carlos. His head is spinning a little and he kept tripping over his feet. Carlos pokes Lando until Lando puts his seatbelt on and the taxi pulls away from the queue.

The drive to Carlos’ place is quick, the roads devoid of traffic. The driver waves Carlos away when he tries to pay, says it has been arranged. Carlos still hands him a tip before he puts his wallet back into his pocket. Lando gets out of the taxi, stumbling a little. The night air is crisp and cool and sobers Lando up a little.

He inhales deeply and follows Carlos to the front door. Carlos fumbles a little with his keys, needing two tries before he unlocks the front door. Lando leans against Carlos’ back while he waits, his arms wrapped loosely around Carlos’ waist and nuzzling Carlos’ neck. He almost falls over when Carlos unexpectedly steps away, but he manages to catch himself.

“Rude,” he mutters towards Carlos, who just grins at him. They take their coats off and Lando toes off his shoes.

“Come on, we need to drink some water, no?” Carlos says and pulls Lando into the kitchen by the arm. He hands him a glass of water and Lando leans against the counter as he drains the glass, taking in Carlos.

Carlos looks dishevelled, his hair a mess, his jumper rumpled and untidy, the collar of his dress shirt sticking out weirdly. He has a red flush over his cheekbones and he looks a little dazed, leaning heavily against the counter. His eyeliner is very smudged in the corners of his eyes, much worse than when they left and Lando wants to reach out and rub the smudges away with his thumbs.

He refills the glass and sips at it slowly. When it is nearly empty, he puts it on the counter and closes his eyes for a moment. The tiredness is hitting him hard now, his limbs feeling heavy. The world is still spinning and it is nauseating.

“Let’s go to bed,” Carlos says, suddenly in front of Lando and Lando blinks at him, a little confused. He hadn’t noticed Carlos move at all.

Carlos wraps a hand around his wrist and pulls gently and Lando stumbles up the stairs behind him. He makes for the guest room, but Carlos steers him towards the bathroom.

“Don’t want you to smudge eyeliner on my sheets, cabrón,” he says when Lando makes a confused noise.

Carlos guides Lando onto the counter again and Lando leans against the mirror, tipping his head back. He watches Carlos remove his eyeliner with a wipe through lidded eyes, blinking long and slow. Carlos has left the package of makeup remover wipes on the counter in Lando’s reach but Lando’s arms feel too heavy to move.

“How drunk are you?” Carlos asks laughing when he is done and sees Lando still sitting there.

“Very. Arms too heavy,” Lando mumbles, trying to lift one to show Carlos, but the muscles respond sluggishly.

“You’re useless,” Carlos says, fondness in his voice. He steps between Lando’s legs again and grabs a clean wipe. Lando closes his eyes just as Carlos cups his face with a gentle hand. He feels Carlos running the moist wipe over his eyelids, his touch soft and careful. It feels nice and Lando leans his head into Carlos’ hand.

“There, done,” Carlos says. His hand still cups Lando’s face and Lando opens his eyes again, meeting Carlos’ eyes. Carlos looks tired but his gaze is focused and intense, dark brown eyes warm. He runs his thumb over Lando’s cheekbone and Lando nuzzles into the touch.

“Will you help me again for tomorrow’s party? Putting eyeliner on?” Lando asks, his voice slurring a little.

“Of course,” Carlos says, smiling softly. He runs his thumb over Lando’s cheekbone again before he removes his hand.

Lando’s head drops forward until he catches himself. He slips off the counter and Carlos hands him a toothbrush. They brush their teeth and Lando splashes some water on his face as well, drying off with a towel Carlos laid out for him. His eyes feel gritty and he is so tired that he keeps tripping over his feet.

He blindly follows Carlos to the bedroom and undresses after some prompting from Carlos. He lets the jumper drop to the floor with his trousers and almost falls over when he takes his socks off and Carlos laughs at him again, the dick. Lando struggles with the dress shirt, fumbling with the buttons until Carlos takes pity on him and undoes the buttons for him, pushing the fabric off Lando’s shoulders so the shirt falls down.

“Let’s get into bed,” Carlos murmurs, his hands resting on Lando’s shoulder for a moment before he lets them trail down Lando’s arms, leaving tingling skin behind.

The world finally stops spinning when Lando slides under the covers and he snuggles into the soft pillows. He feels Carlos slip in beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. Soft hands manoeuvre him a little until Carlos is pressed up against his back, an arm slung over his waist. Lando shifts closer into the warmth of Carlos’ body and Carlos tightens his arm around Lando’s waist.

“Buenas noches, Lando. Que tengas dulces sueños,” Carlos murmurs softly, lips pressing a light kiss on his shoulder. It is the last thing Lando remembers before he falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone feels inspired enough to draw the scene of Lando on the counter while Carlos applies eyeliner, I would be really really happy. My creativity only lies with writing words, sadly.
> 
> Carlos filming Lando coming down the stairs is this video: [not my Tumblr](https://landoavocado.tumblr.com/post/189514738258/everyone-say-thank-you-carlos)


End file.
